Do Not Disturb
by Foxieglove
Summary: Ragetti wants to know why Jack Sparrow doesn't like him and winds up holding a debate on immortality that nearly proves disastrous for the one eyed pirate. No peanuts were harmed in the making of this fic.


Lost it. He'd bloody lost it all. Why? Because. Because of her. Because he was a good man. Supposedly.

Bugger.

Jack's knife slipped and he cursed, putting his finger in his mouth. He shook the injured appendage, sending drops of blood to splatter against the dark wood. Sneering at the half-peeled apple in his hand, green flesh now crimson from the slice in his flesh, Jack threw it overboard. Never could understand why Barbossa liked the bloody things. They were bitter.

A shuffle of feet behind him. Jack turned swiftly, in time to see one of his former crew - the tall one-eyed scarecrow of a man - stumble back, stammering an apology. "Stop that," Jack snapped at him and made a show of lounging against the starboard rail, purposefully _not_ looking startled.

Ragetti didn't move away, oddly enough. Just stood there staring. Not like Jack wasn't used to it, but most other men were subtler. "Somethin' I can help you with, mate? Or rather, _not_ help you with?" Jack asked, eyebrow raised. Ragetti mumbled an answer and Jack leaned forward impatiently. "Come again?"

"D-Do I . . . um. Do I really scare you?"

Jack blinked.

"Ye said I did. Earlier."

"Do ye scare me," Jack repeated back to him. Looking frightened himself, Ragetti nodded. Sparrow's eyes went a little unfocused. "You're like me."

Ragetti furrowed his brow. "Wot?"

"You're just like me, mate. Ten years ago. Only look at ye." Jack moved away from the railing, and circled Ragetti. "Missin' an eye. Wounds all on the outside. You haven't been stabbed in the back yet. Advantage of only havin' one friend, I suppose." Jack shrugged.

"You haven't owned anything of worth to lose. Except maybe your sanity. Surprisingly not much of that even . . . So why _do_ ye scare me?"

Having come full circle, he propped the small of his back against the starboard and muttered petulantly, mostly to himself. "I was going to be immortal."

Rags shook his head. "No, no. You're Cap'n Jack Sparrow. Ye don't _need_ to be immortal. So long as people'll always tell stories-"

"Don't want to be a story," Jack sulked. "I'm a pirate. Not a bloody fish-tale."

"Immortality in't what it's cracked up to be, y'know. We was immortal for ten years. I hated it."

"'Cause you were _cursed_, you stupid blighter, of 'course you hated it!" Jack was feeling nasty and not even the crushed look on Ragetti's face made him feel bad for it. Well, not very bad for it. Not _exceptionally_ bad for it.

"Even if you wasn't cursed , _other _things'll still get old," Rags pontificated. "Ye won't care 'bout the sun or the water splashin' against ye . . ."

"Bollocks."

"Wenches ye like'll get old an' wrinkly," Ragetti added.

"There'll be more wenches. I'll make sure o' that," Jack assured him. He grinned to himself.

"All your friends would be passed on . . ."

"Pfft. I'd make new ones, mate," he dismissed with a wave. Ragetti gnawed on his thumbnail for a moment, thinking.

"Rum would stop tastin' as good I bet. 'Cause you'd drink it every day for thousands and thousands o' years and get sick of it eventually -"

"OI!"

Hands grabbed him by the jacket and Ragetti suddenly found himself slammed against the mast, then shaken hard enough to rattle the breath from him. Jack's eyes were wild and his face was a twisted mess of horror and anguish.

"Belay that! Shut it! Rum's one of the few things still right with the world and it always will be! Always!"

"Ahhgnnn- Capt'n Jack!--" Ragetti sputtered, helplessly. "I only meant --" He choked as hands closed around his throat.

"No you don't! You don't mean a word of it and you don't know what you're talking about! Take it back!"

Ragetti gasped, too dizzy to pry the man's hands off. Someone came to his rescue, placing themselves between him and the distraught Sparrow. Rags slumped back finally, catching his breath.

"That be enough, Jack."

"Hector, he's been messin' with me rum!" Jack ranted.

Barbossa brought a morsel of food up to Sparrow's face, forcing it past the man's lips. Jack hesitated then crunched down on the peanut, chewing slowly. He seemed to calm down a little.

"Nobody's been messing with the rum, Jack. All's well and proper on the ship. Ye can go to the cabin and check for ye self."

"Aye." Jack glared suspiciously at Ragetti then pointed at him in dire warning as he walked towards his quarters. Rubbing at his throat, Ragetti slunk to hide behind Barbossa, peering around him until Jack was out of sight.

"E's completely gone barmy, 'asn't he?" he asked.

Barbossa turned to him, ignoring his question. "Where be Master Pintel?"

"Down below wit' Toggs and Royers. 'E's teachin' 'em how to play dice. Mazin' what all you _don't_ learn in the Navy."

"Go join them then," Barbossa said, moving off toward the cabin. "And stay out of Jack's way. I think he's a might cagey, don't you?"

Ragetti winced in agreement, hand going back to the red marks on his neck. "'E's bloody miserable. But 'e did the right thing an' I think 'e knows it."

Hector stopped, and gave a sigh of exasperation before he turned back. "Rags," he drawled, and beckoned with one finger.

Cautiously, keeping in mind a very odd experience involving wet wooden eyeballs, Ragetti sidled close. Barbossa put an arm over his shoulders and leaned in. "Ye seem lately to always worry about what's right or not, despite me or Master Pintel havin' to remind you on several occasions that ye be a . . ."

He trailed off, looking at the tall man in expectation. Ragetti ducked his head, sheepishly.

"Pirate," he finished.

"Aye. And what be right or wrong in those terms is irrelevant in Master Sparrow's case. Jack be my business, and ye'll stay clear o' him until my business be through. Savvy?"

Ragetti recognized the significant hint of danger in his Captain's tone and nodded. Barbossa graced him with a smile, then gave Ragetti a generous swat in the direction of the hold. The lanky pirate wasted no time scuttling down the stairs to search for Pintel.

Hector snorted lightly and continued on his way to the cabin. He would have to do something about Jack sooner than later. He was running out of peanuts.


End file.
